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<title>Burnin' For You by Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79), snowqueen79</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057906">Burnin' For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18'>Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79'>snowqueen79</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ransom Tales [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Knives Out (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Pining, Regret, mentions of alcohol and drug use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:53:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What Ransom did after Thanksgiving...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ransom Tales [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burnin' For You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a short piece that takes place after Chapter 6 of Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ransom, you up for a threesome tonight?”</p>
<p>Knocking back the rest of his scotch, Ransom glanced up at the two giggling blondes standing next to his table. Four huge fake boobs, two empty heads. Another Saturday night.</p>
<p>Blowing out an exhale, he nodded. “Why not?”</p>
<p>Josh grinned at him from across the table. “Who are your friends, Ran?”</p>
<p>He didn’t know their fucking names. The one on the left, he <em>thought</em> was Alessandra, Amanda… He knew three drinks ago. The other one? No clue.</p>
<p>Ransom shrugged, rising from the table with a little effort.</p>
<p>Josh winked at him. “Have fun.”</p>
<p>Pulling on his coat, he followed the blonde duo out of the club and out to the hotel he preferred here in Providence. He led them up to the suite he’d rented so he could catch up with his friends. It was spacious and opulent in white and bronze with plants his mother would love. It had a kitchen he barely used, a living room that he’d left a fucking mess, and a huge king bed.</p>
<p>It was a lot like the suite he’d shared with <em>her</em> over Thanksgiving.</p>
<p>As he watched, the blondes found the mirror with the coke he’d used earlier, squealing in delight as one of them plucked up the razor and started to expertly form lines.</p>
<p>
  <em>Christ.</em>
</p>
<p>It wasn’t working.</p>
<p>Ransom lit a cigarette, grabbed the chilled bottle of champagne, and poured himself a glass as he watched them suck up fat lines of powder. He couldn’t taste it. None of his addictions took away the pain her absence left.</p>
<p>One blonde made her way seductively towards him until she turned an ankle and went down, cackling the entire while.</p>
<p>Shaking his head, Ransom stepped away from the window and extended a hand to help her up. She wrapped herself around him, over-perfumed and cigarette stale. She pressed her lips to his throat and his stomach turned.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind,” he shoved the one away. “I’m going to need you to take off.”</p>
<p>The one still snorting powder looked up, her inflamed nostrils ringed in white. “What?”</p>
<p>“You got some coke out of the deal,” Ransom told them. “Now go.”</p>
<p>Ransom pointed at the door, watching the girls clumsily snatching up their purses and shoes – when had they taken those off – and pout their way to the door. They grumbled, one of them flipped him off.</p>
<p>But he couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief when the door closed behind them.</p>
<p>Shedding his coat, he returned to the window. He watched the blondes stumble back to the club and Josh was out there smoking, greeted them.</p>
<p>That surprised him. Josh usually wasn’t the pickup guy.</p>
<p>He also didn’t give a shit.</p>
<p>All he could remember was the sounds of the parade, of the music she danced to in the kitchen. He remembered the scents of dinner, fighting with her over the oven. Making her ridiculous stuffing mix with too much onion and celery.</p>
<p>All he could see was warm skin and shining eyes, the shy smile that destroyed him when she turned it on him. He could still picture how she looked moving over him. Passion-parted lips with baby hair and bouncing breasts. He could still taste her on his tongue, feel her softness all around him.</p>
<p>“Ransom,” her whisper echoed in his head.</p>
<p>
  <em>She was his.</em>
</p>
<p>And he’d just allowed Marta and Blanc to take her away from him.</p>
<p>Ransom tried telling himself he had the money now, enough to have a comfy life if he half tried. He could go back to his lifestyle, his friends.</p>
<p><em>No, he really couldn’t. </em>Now that he had a taste of her…</p>
<p>His pumpkin had turned everything in his life upside down. Yeah, maybe he’d taken her. He could lie to himself and say she’d come willingly but Marta was right. Not that he’d ever admit it.</p>
<p>In truth, she’d taken <em>him</em>. <em>His heart.</em> And no drugs, alcohol or random women could change that.</p>
<p>Ransom just needed to decide what he’d do about it.</p>
<p>His phone hummed as he headed towards the bedroom. It was Josh.</p>
<p>“You done already? They’re back in the club.”</p>
<p>“I’m tired,” Ransom said simply. “Have at it.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Josh blew out an exhale. “Anything you’re not telling me?”</p>
<p>“You know the eighth level of hell is reserved for snake oil peddlers, right?” Ransom asked.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Ransom shook his head. Like Josh had ever read Milton.</p>
<p>“Forget it. Have a good time.”</p>
<p>Ending the call, Ransom threw himself down on the bed in the dark, wishing <em>she</em> were here with him.  </p>
<p>“I’m coming for you, pumpkin,” he swore into the darkness. “And this time?”</p>
<p>Ransom reached over and smudged out his cigarette, smiling.</p>
<p>“This time, I’m <em>keeping</em> you.”</p>
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